


To Be Without You

by natasha_romanoice



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, BAMF Natasha Romanov, Drug Dealing, F/M, Feelings Realization, Introspection, Natasha Romanov Is Not A Robot, On the Run, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), au in which Natasha doesn’t join Steve after Civil War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-01-12 14:02:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18448058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natasha_romanoice/pseuds/natasha_romanoice
Summary: Natasha decides it’s better if she doesn’t join Steve after the events of Civil War.





	1. Chapter 1

She was used to being on her own.

Had been for years.  
But the Avengers changed her.

For the first time in her life she saw herself as part of a team.

Part of something.

She had a home with the others.

They were her family.

Her crazy, delusional, dysfunctional, more-kills-among-them-than-most-historical-psychopathic-serial-killers, but they were hers.

And she was theirs.

Natasha Romanov ran through these thoughts as she sat sobbing under a tree in the pouring rain after having been attacked by mercenaries more interested in the dollar amount on her head than her or their own well being. She had killed eight of them and saw three get away in a van. She didn’t even try shooting out its windows or tires as it screeched away. Despite being in a secluded part of whatever city she was currently in, a small crowd of people had gathered and were snapping phone photos of the bodies around her and she did what she did best; she ran.

She ran and ran until she found train tracks in the middle of the woods and kept running along them hoping they would lead somewhere, anywhere else.

Eventually the adrenaline wore off and exhaustion seeped into her legs and she tasted blood in her mouth and was forced to stop. Her feet dragged and caught on a fallen branch and she slammed into the ground, slicing her cheekbone on the metal tracks but not caring in the slightest because she was scared.

She had felt fear before but had never been this mind-numbingly, all-consumingly afraid. She was afraid of the fear she felt and she was afraid of how afraid she was.

The rain soaked through to her bones and her breath caught as she trembled from the icy sheets thundering through the forest. She found a gathering of tumbled trees that created a kind of shelter for her and sat, hugging her knees close to her chest. She sat and she cried and screamed until she coughed more blood.

It had been 19 months since she had seen Steve.

A year and a half of her life on the run and she wanted nothing more than to crawl into a warm bed and listen to the sounds of her home in the Avengers facility and the voices of her family bustling with life around her. Anything but the deafening silence her loneliness created in her brain, anything but the thunder overhead that reminded her too much of Thor. Thinking about him in turn made her think of all the others. Clint, Wanda, even Bruce, hell she even missed Tony. But nothing compared to how much she missed Steve. She longed to see him again, to hug him, to tell him how much he meant to her and how much she regretted parting ways with him after letting him and Bucky escape to Siberia and how much she wished they had run away together like he wanted to. It was her own stupid fault for saying it was better if the governments of the world were searching for two moving targets across the world from each other. Less of a chance for both of them to be caught. Now she didn’t know what country she was in, when she would see any of her family again, or where her best friend was.

She knew she couldn’t stay here, she had to keep moving, always moving. It’s all she could do to stay alive but today had proven it might not be enough.

She pulled her small bag off her back and checked its rain soaked contents. She had a nearly empty first aid kit, the fifth one she’s gone through this month. The plastic casing had shattered when a bullet penetrated her bag and she was grateful now that the box had been what saved her life, even if she could feel blood on her back and a large bruise she was sure would be debilitating tomorrow. She had more cuts and scrapes and scratches and burns than she cared to count, probably some she neglected simply because taking care of them meant admitting what she felt was true: that it was her against the entire world. This became more true as she looked further into her bag and saw a glint of broken glass. She quickly shut her eyes and her hands flew to her mouth as more tears leaked from her eyes. Her transponder. She didn’t dare look again but she didn’t dare lie to herself and deny what she knew to be true. The bullet had hit her only communication with Steve, the only other person on this god forsaken planet who seemed to be on her side, even though it was her choosing his side that led to her current position. Not that she would change it for anything.

After the fight at the airport and she had let Steve and Bucky get away, T’Challa told General Ross of her betrayal and Tony was sure to let her know there would be people coming for her. Luckily for her, though, he played her move and let her get away. She knew she and Tony were never on quite the same wavelength but they understood each other enough for him to know giving her any kind of head start meant she would never be seen or heard from again if she so chose. Now with the broken glass littering the bottom of her bag she wished for nothing than for her family to find her and be with them again.

She and Steve had agreed to check in at least once a week to let each other know they were alive. They both knew it was too risky to ever give locations, you never know who might be listening, but that weekly conversation of hearing his voice even for a few seconds made this whole endeavour worth it to her. Their conversations would last maybe three minutes tops, then they would switch frequencies, find each other’s voices again, and sign off saying ‘talk to you next week’. She would always sigh in relief whenever she heard a moment of static and his voice floating through the white noise filtering through the tiny speaker. It was the one thing that kept her sane.

More than once he tried asking her why she didn’t just come with him and Sam, Wanda, and Vision. She would always sigh and tell her they were all wanted criminals and the bigger their group the easier they were to hunt, find, and kill. She had assured him she would be fine on her own and told him not to worry, that once the dust settled she would see him again.

Now she had no way to tell him she was okay, no way of knowing if he was okay.

When her tears were all gone and she felt the tempting tendrils of sleep creeping into the corners of her mind, she opened her bag again and took out the ruined fragments of her only connection with her best friend. She sliced her finger on a bit of glass and flicked the switches to see any sign of life. When she was sure the thing was dead, she took all the pieces and buried them in the dirt beneath the tree beside her. She found a small stone that vaguely resembled a heart and placed it on top. She then let sleep overtake her and prayed to anyone who might be listening she wouldn’t dream.

-

Two weeks after her transponder was destroyed she found herself somewhere in a small rundown town in Slovakia. She had made friends with a lowlife drug smuggler who had given her a small apartment with a bed and mostly unbroken windows. She became his right hand man and he paid her well for it. She didn’t ask what it was she was transporting and he didn’t ask any personal questions. She did his bidding, he didn’t tell her he knew who she really was.

-

She had been at her smuggling job for a month when there was a knock on her door in the middle of the night. She stood, gun drawn, listening to the voices on the other side of the door. She spoke Russian with her employer and was rusty in her Slovak, but she recognised the words ‘black widow’ and by the time they forced the door open she was gone.

She made her way across the continent, stopping a few hours outside Kiev working for another drug ring. It might’ve been connected to the one she had run from, but she didn’t ask in case her new friends had heard about the fugitive Black Widow escaping from the grasps of the Slovak drug cartel.

She had a new apartment, this time with a roommate, a sweet girl named Anna. Anna was deaf and each time she used sign language, even though Natasha didn’t understand what she was signing, it brought a stab to her heart as she thought of Clint and where he must be now.

She had quickly worked her way up the ranks in her new place of employment, even earning herself a laptop from which she could transfer funds through fourteen false bank accounts, the owners of which she could come up with in an instant. Lying had always been second nature to her, and now that she had lost everything when she could no longer talk to Steve, she found adding more fiction to her narrative easier than admitting any sort of painful truth.

Every second her laptop was open and her fingers were flying over the keys doing illegal things even she never thought she’d be doing, she wanted so desperately to find some way to track Steve. She knew she would be putting his life in danger as well as Sam’s, Wanda’s, and Vision’s. She didn’t care that she would be compromised, she only wanted to know if he was alive. Not to mention her laptop was always being monitored and any straying from her assignments could mean a bullet through her skull.

She’d had to learn how to be very loyal to very bad people very quickly, and when the local feds caught tell of her boss’s movements and destroyed their drug ring, she almost felt a little sad that her new friends’ skulls were bashed in. She worked quickly at stealing the tracking device from her laptop and disappeared before the police even knew who was running the fictitious accounts.

She boarded a small cargo plane heading west toward Madrid, using her charm to persuade the pilot into letting her stowaway in the back. Too bad for him she took off running before he had the chance to check on her when they landed.

She quickly found herself a new cover and paraded around the city as an exchange student ready to see the world. She picked up a few jobs here and there doing the dirty work for some lowlifes who didn’t buy her cover story for a second, for which she was glad. It meant they were smart enough for their own good but not too smart to see who she really was. They just thought she was a good lair, which was fine by her. They needed a job done, she would put a bullet in someone’s brain, she would get paid and be on her way.

She hopped around to different motels in remote parts of the city, trying to sleep near places where worse things were happening than fugitive Avengers staying in one of their rooms. They snitched on her, their entire lives would be over as the cops uncovered every one of their dirty secrets.

As she lay on her lumpy mattress one night trying to drown out the sounds of her neighbour having wall shaking sex with prostitutes, she thought of a conversation she and Steve had what now felt like ten lifetimes ago.

She had let him in on how she kept her guard up to different people at different times, to which he replied, “That’s a tough way to live.”

She remembered her own response: “It’s a good way not to die, though.”

She couldn’t help but wonder what Steve might say to her now if he could see the kind of situation she had put herself in. Working for the lowest of the low, murdering people who were probably innocent and doing whatever her bosses told her, staying quiet about it to keep them from digging a little deeper and finding out who she was and why she was so calm about taking lives.

She missed Steve more than she ever would’ve thought possible a few years ago. In the Red Room they were taught never to grow close with anyone, never put your trust in anyone, never love anyone.

Natasha could no longer count how many times she had broken the first two rules. She could count on one finger how many times she had broken the last one.

Sitting with a duffel bag full of cocaine and two more full of drug money on her floor, trying to ignore sounds of a prostitution ring on her left and some kind of exchange right outside her door, she tried not to think about when she first started to trust Steve.

She didn’t think about the first time she realised he was her friend.

She definitely didn’t think back to the first time she realised she loved him.

-

She woke to the sound of gunshots coming from her left and figured one of the prostitutes must’ve found her customer’s duffel bags of meth and had to be put down. She rolled back over and almost drifted off to sleep when her eyes snapped open. She dashed to the small bathroom and vomited. She flushed the toilet and looked at herself in the mirror after rinsing her mouth out. There were dark circles under her eyes, her cheekbones were more prominent than the time she had been held captive and starved for a month. Her short hair was tangled and a scar was forming on the side of her face from where she had sliced herself on the train tracks ages ago. A thought struck her.

She no longer recognised the person staring back at her. It wasn’t just the silvery blonde hair she had given herself almost immediately after going under the radar. It was her empty hollow eyes that had become so numb to seeing the things that would drive anyone else insane.

She had murdered countless people all because someone told her to. That same someone gave her millions of dollars of drugs and illegal weapons to transport across borders and in return she got a pretty penny or two for the effort. She was doing her best to survive but she hadn’t lived in almost two years. The very thing - or rather, person - she was living for hadn’t heard anything from her in weeks and she had no idea if he was still alive.

She let a tear slip as a way to remind herself that she was still alive and capable of feeling and went back to her bed and pulled out her laptop. She was just about to risk everything and track down Steve when several news articles from eight minutes ago caught her eye.

‘Strange aliens seen attacking civilians in Edinburgh’

‘Alien craft seen hovering over quiet village in Scotland’

One name was all she needed to see and even if it was just speculation she needed to leave now.

‘Captain America, national hero turned fugitive, spotted in Edinburgh?’  
-


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha makes her way back home, and meets an unexpected old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Russian translations are at the end

That night she locked herself in the dingy bathroom that always reeked of the blood she washed off herself every night, and took out the tracking device from her laptop. She had a walkie talkie from her new bosses torn apart on the floor in front of her, as well as a few computer chips and data parts and pieces she had stolen and was stitching together for a makeshift tracking device. It took well over an hour for anything other than static to come out of the speaker, but eventually she started tapping into frequencies ranging from radio stations to top secret military broadcasts she knew she shouldn’t be hearing. She had no idea what frequency Steve might be using or if he had given up on their weekly check ins and turned off his transponder, which would mean her effort was for nothing and she would truly have lost him, would possibly never see him again.

 

She scanned each wild track and filtered out music and talk shows. She found a few obscure ones and kept tabs on them for the next nine hours. Her legs were numb and her spine where the bullet hit a few months back never healed right and she was left nearly unable to stand. It was only as she was about to get up to get circulation back into her toes that one of the frequencies suddenly sputtered to life. She enhanced it and muted all the others. She waited for almost a minute before she heard a voice, small but clear as day.

 

“ _November, this is Charlie. We are at Uniform Alpha Foxtrot, I don’t know where you are but if you can you need to come now. There’s been...a development. Over and out._ ”

 

By the time the transmission cut out she was sobbing with relief on the bathroom floor. It was Steve. It was his wonderful voice she had heard. He was alive. And she knew exactly where he was and how to get to him. Two years of tension lifted from her shoulders and she had never felt more relieved in all her life.

 

She recognised the codes they had decided on. She was November, for Natasha, he was Charlie, for Cap, and Uniform Alpha Foxtrot was Upstate Avengers Facility. She didn’t know what he meant by development or why he had hesitated but she was already throwing her electronics into her backpack and preparing to walk to a small international airport wherever she could find one. She left her duffel bags of drugs and money, minus a few hundred dollars, and began her trek home.

 

-

 

She ended up boarding a small rickety plane heading out of Madrid with no incidents. She knew if anyone had heard Steve’s voice they would be hovering at any airports or docks, but it seemed they either hadn’t heard it at all or weren’t thinking she’d be in Madrid. She let her thoughts slip to where airport security might have been increased to keep an eye out for the Black Widow. Anywhere in East Europe and Russia must’ve been crawling with cops, feds, and armed mercenaries looking to get paid for bringing Natasha in dead or alive. She imagined their faces and decided they preferred the former.

 

She fell asleep shortly after takeoff and dreamt of Steve. She saw herself running to him and leaping at him hugging him tightly, never wanting to let go. In her mind she saw his gorgeous smile and her dream self kissed him for all it was worth. She could feel his warmth, taste his skin, hear his laugh. She herself smiled as tears dripped from both their eyes. Behind Steve she could see Clint and Sam and James all smiling and happy and alive, which was all she could ever want for any of them. For the first time in a very long time she awoke with a smile on her face, instead of her usual screams of terror. She could still feel Steve’s lips on hers as she exited the plane and departed the airport as quickly and as quietly as she could.

 

-

 

She hadn’t been paying much attention to where she would be landing when choosing her ticket; her mind had been racing and anxious to get home to Steve. She luckily found herself somewhere around Boston and met up with someone from the underground she had met in her later days of the KGB. He gave her a car and from the searching look on his face she knew he was seconds away from the gears clicking into place and locking her up for the feds to find her. She drove away as he pulled a gun and managed a single bullet through the trunk.

 

She drove for hours until she needed a fill-up. She pulled into a small empty station and left the tank to fill while she used the restroom. When she got back the gas hose had been placed back into the slot and someone was sitting in her passenger seat. Every hair on the back of her neck stood on end and she kept to the shadows as she rounded the vehicle, hand on the gun in her waistband. She didn’t immediately recognise the intruder, but from the scar on his eye and tattoos on his cheeks she could tell he didn’t wish her well. She was about to turn and run and figure out how to get the last 100 miles to her destination when he called out to her.

 

“ _черная вдова_.”

 

Her blood ran cold. He knew who she was. Her conflicting instincts told her both to run and approach him so she did the latter, her hand squeezing her gun a little tighter.

 

She spoke to him in Russian. “ _How do you know me?_ ”

 

He let loose a gravelly laugh. “ _The entire world is looking for you, любимец_.”

 

She stomach twisted at the pet name. It was a name one of her former comrades called her and it hit her like a train who the man in her car was.

 

“ _How did you find me?_ ”

 

“ _We never lost you. Been following you this whole time, just never let you know it._ ”

 

She scoffed.

 

“ _You first went to Belarus, got shot, by one of my own men in fact, then went to Slovakia where you met and worked for my good friend Nikolai. You traveled around a fair bit then stayed in Madrid for probably longer than was smart, любимец. You heard Rogers tell you to come home and you came running. Now you’re here, and now I’m afraid I’m going to have to kill you._ ”

 

Her mind and heart raced. She didn’t even try to deny where she had been the past two years. She decided to stall.

 

“ _So you only just started having me followed._ ”

 

He laughed again. “ _Oh no, любимец. You’re working with Stark and a god born of legend and a giant green monster I’ve heard rumour you successfully seduced. You always were a шлюха._ ”

 

She felt bile in her throat. The man had been watching her closely, too closely for comfort. Instinctively she took a step away from the car.

 

“ _Stark and Rogers got into a little сука fight, you chose right, then wrong, and did the only thing you know how to do. You ran away. But this time you didn’t have mommy to seek. And whose fault is that?_ ”

 

“ _I chose my path. I stuck with it. I’m not ashamed of what I’ve done and who I’ve become._ ”

 

“ _You should be._ ”

 

She didn’t know what to say so she kept her cool. “ _You seem to know an awful lot about me, yet I don’t know who you are._ ”

 

“ _I think we both know that’s a lie, любимец._ ”

 

She had become a merciless killer with his man watching her every move. He was the general from which she took orders for years before being recruited by Clint. She didn’t dare try and remember his name, lest she think too much and memories of her old life resurface and threaten to strangle her.

 

“ _What do you want with me?”_

 

“ _What everyone else wants. Money. And justice._ ”

 

“ _Justice?_ ”

 

“ _You broke your oath and joined your pathetic band of ‘superheroes’._ ” He used air quotes with a look of disgust. “ _You think they changed you into anything other than the killer we made you? You’re ours. We own you._ ”

 

By now he had stood from the car and began walking toward her. She stood her ground and pointed her gun at his throat. He laughed at her. “ _You wouldn’t kill an old friend, would you, любимец?_ ”

 

She stood straighter and smirked. “ _I don’t know how you tracked me for so long, I don’t know who you think I am, but I think you’d be pleasantly and disturbingly surprised to see that not much has changed._ ”

 

He looked quizzical for a moment. Then the bullet pierced his windpipe and he fell to the ground, already choking on his own blood. She approached his writhing form.

 

“ _It’s like you said._ ” She examined the gun barrel before looking into his terrified eyes. “ _I’m a killer. But not for you. Not anymore._ ”

 

She watched the life drain from his eyes for a few more seconds before kicking him away from her tires and grabbing the gun off his belt. Her tank was full so she pulled out of the lot without looking behind her. She had nothing to prove to that man and those he sent after her, other than the simple fact that they did not own her.

 

Not anymore.

 

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> черная вдова - Black Widow  
> любимец - pet, favourite  
> шлюха - whore  
> сука - bitch


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha finds herself tantalisingly close to freedom.

The adrenaline wore off a few miles down the road from the gas station as the first colours of dawn painted the sky over her head. She pulled off the side of the road as another car behind her honked at her for delaying him from wherever was vitally important he had to be. She tried to regulate her breathing and deny fresh tears from escaping but to no avail; she had her first panic attack in more than ten years thinking about what all her latest victim could have seen and found out about her in the time he had had her followed.

It didn't take a genius or KGB spy to realise that she was an Avenger. Anyone who saw any footage of the attack on New York or Sokovia knew she was there trying to help save the day. She wasn't trying to kill Iron Man or Captain America or Thor so that must mean she was on their side. Those facts being known didn't bother her. What bothered her were the little facts he had known. The airport fight hadn't been televised and not many people knew how it had started since the vicinity had been vacated before they arrived. Yet he had known about it and about Tony and Steve's personal fight that led them all to Leipzig.

More concerning, perhaps, was that he had known about her attempt at starting something with Bruce. They had flirted at Tony's party before Ultron rose, but that was a small gathering of their closest friends. It terrified her to think someone may have been watching them when they were all on Clint's private family farm. Not even SHIELD knew about that. Now that true terror had settled in, she was more worried for Clint and his family's security being compromised, all because she was supposedly being followed.

She thought of her days in the Red Room. Of all her training that pushed her body, mind, and soul to the breaking point. More than once she thought she had been broken. But she quickly learned that if she showed any hesitation or weakness or resistance, she would be brutally punished until she did what they needed her to do. Those early years of her life were when the first walls of armour went up around her heart. Every time she killed someone for target practice or watched someone gunned down for failing their tasks, she put up another layer. It took years before she could look someone in the eyes and see the life fade from them at her own doing without her so much as flinching.

"This is what you were put on this world to do. This is your place in the world."

"I have no place in the world."

"Exactly. You are useless unless your face is the last face they see. That's the mark you leave."

She stopped flinching at those words by the hundredth time she heard them. She refused to miss when they told her to steady her aim and put a second bullet between the eyes that no longer saw her face.

She thought of her time after the Red Room. She was sent out on countless missions to take down dozens of operations both illegal and within the law, but simply because her bosses didn't like whatever was taking place, she would see it and whoever was behind it terminated.

At first she kept a body count and tried not to panic when it soared into the triple digits before her first month was up. She stopped counting after that.

She thought of the day she was in a war-torn city, isolated, pondering her next move when an arrow struck a wall an inch from her face. That was the first time she met Clint. He gave her something no one had ever given her in her life, something she never knew was an option; he gave her a way out. He helped her out of the city, promising her that where they were going was much safer than where they were leaving. He brought her to SHIELD and she met Director Fury, who immediately took her under his wing and taught her how to trust good people, not just people who promised not to kill her as long as she did exactly what she was told.

She was admitted for a psych eval but didn't say a word for nearly three weeks. She didn't know exactly what kept her from spilling every one of the KGB's dirty secrets. Maybe she was afraid to admit to all she had done, despite being told nothing in her past would affect her work at SHIELD. Maybe she was afraid they would find her and steal her back to her old life, which she was beginning to understand wasn't a good way to live.

A small part of her told her she was afraid of looking Fury and Clint in the eyes after speaking about all she had seen and done. She truly wanted to trust them, but couldn't be sure they wouldn't use her past against her in the future. She had never made friends in her life and wanted to believe it was something she was capable of.

One night, she dreamt of that awful voice, her own voice, telling her: "I have no place in this world." She awoke with a shout, and had made up her mind. She was going to prove herself wrong.

After that she slowly began to open up to the agents who wrote her words onto a notepad and then when she had told them everything, they brought her to a vault, locked the notepad inside and gave her the only key. They told her that her past was hers and hers alone and that she didn't have to ever look inside the vault, but could do so at any time if she chose.

She was allowed into the field after seeing her vault locked for the last time, and a few weeks of training. She didn't necessarily need it, she knew, but she wanted to make sure she was using SHIELD's techniques instead of those that had been scorched into her brain since childhood.

Clint was her partner and mentor at first, and she was glad he never asked any questions if he knew wouldn't get answers. She opened up to him at her own pace and only divulged the parts of herself she wanted him to know.

She liked being outside, her favourite colour was a shade off the maroon that lined his uniform.

-

She continued driving until she was fifteen miles away from the Facility.

Fifteen miles away from Steve.

From safety.

In the early morning light a dark SUV passed her and slowed down too quickly for comfort. She didn't increase her speed to lessen any potential suspicion. The SUV turned around and was bumper to bumper with her and she knew what was about to happen. She pressed the gas hard but her read tires were shot out before she could distance herself from the driver who by now she assumed was a bounty hunter. Sparks flew from her screeching tires and she took the gun from her passenger seat and shot blindly behind her. Years of abusive training and a rep for never missing paid in her favour and she heard the windshield shatter and the car veer off the road and slam into a telephone pole. She continued driving for as long as she could and over the crest of a hill she could see the lights of the facility just down the road. Close enough she could scream and Steve would hear her.

A shot behind her and a subsequent explosion to her right slowed her entire world down to a stop. As the vehicle splintered beneath her and glass cut her face she saw a pair of familiar ice blue eyes. He wore a stained white tank top and looked tired but relaxed in a way you only get around friends and people you trust with your entire soul. He was giving his to her and he uttered the words that forever changed how she felt about him: "I would now..." in response to her questioning whether he would trust her to save his life. He said he was always honest but she knew that. Her mind was racing in a million directions but all she could do was make a small joke.

Rarely had she trusted anyone in her life and never had someone trusted her with anything, even a secret. But now Steve said he trusted her with his life. And she knew he wasn't being nice to make her feel good. She had learned how to easily read people and knew how Steve worked. Whatever he said, he meant with his entire heart. He knew how to say no. He knew who to trust. And he chose to trust her.

She saw his face through her tears and the smoke pouring out of her ruined car. She choked on the fumes and the heat surrounding her. She crawled out of the wreckage and winced at white hot pain shooting through her collarbone, arm, and leg, indicating several fractures. She could only continue forward even as bullets continued from behind her. She felt the bone shatter in her lower leg as a bullet pierced her calf. She tried not to scream as she stumbled to the ground. Using every ounce of strength left in her and all her might and will she dragged herself along the ground, always moving forward.

Behind her, the car exploded and debris shot in every direction. What looked like part of a door hit her and burned her flesh, some other piece hit her pursuer and he yelled in pain. She finally stood up on a fiercely bleeding leg and limped toward home. She heard more bullets reign around her but when she looked up she realised the gates to the facility had opened like the gates of either heaven or hell. She accepted the fact that even her own family didn't want her back and was fighting to keep her out. Maybe this had all been for nothing. At least she would go out doing what she knew how to do: killing and trying to survive.

She heard another yell behind her and a loud thud against the pavement and her heart lifted. She wasn't being fought against. Someone was here for her. She took another step and fell again. She decided this time she wouldn't get up. All she wanted was to sleep again, something she hadn't done in several weeks. Maybe years. Maybe she had never slept in her life and the sleep she could feel approaching was tempting every part of her body and she was all too willing to accept its warm embrace. It even said her name.

Then she realised the embrace around her was that of a person. Someone she knew. She sobbed when she realised she recognised the voice calling out to her. She tried to smile up at Sam as he opened his metallic wings and flew them toward the facility. She smiled as she accepted the long sleep at last.

-


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha finally wakes up.

Natasha's long sleep started off in comfort. She drifted amongst the tallest clouds and swam through the deepest ocean currents. She dreamt of dancing to the tune of the stars. Nothing mattered here: nothing she had done or witnessed held any weight to the ease and peace she experienced here in her dreamland. Time finally faded and she gazed into the cosmos, unbothered by the silence and darkness.

Her dream was interrupted by a horrible voice she never thought she'd have to hear again.

"You have no place in the world."

Her body tried to sit her upright to shake her foggy mind of that wretched line she no longer had to believe. Her limbs were lead and her bones quaked in her burning skin. She heard herself groan as she opened her eyes to a quiet and dark room. Those two things held different meanings in her waking state. She felt alone and terrified. Perhaps she had dreamt being rescued simply because it was what she most desired in the moment. If that was the case then where the hell was she now?

A soft beeping to her left measured her heart rate and where her limbs throbbed the most she saw bandages covering bloody injuries. She had an IV in each arm and breathed through a cannula in her nose. She thought about tearing all these away and making a run for it when a soft flourescent light glowed to life at the end of the hallway outside. She watched through slitted eyes as her door opened and a tall dark haired figure approached her bedside. They crossed out of her peripheral vision and adjusted some things on the various monitors, writing on a tablet. After a few moments they quickly crossed the room again and were gone. A moment later another figure appeared in the doorway. This one she recognised.

"You're a terrible liar."

She couldn't help but smile at her own words from a lifetime ago being thrown back at her by the same person she had thrown them to.

"Not all things..." she began, but her raw and scratchy throat forbade her from saying more. She knew he understood what she was saying. To all people, all the time. He was at her side in two strides and sat on the edge of the bed, tears brimming his wide blue eyes. He looked about to speak but she wanted to keep the light air for just a moment more. She didn't think she could bare to see the tears spill.

"You look like hell."

"Better than you." He let out a chuckle and looked down at his shoes. "I like the hair."

"You, too, Nomad." She let a moment pass. "How long...?"

"Two days. You missed breakfast. I think you really hurt Vision's feelings."

She smiled at the thought of the weird purple android. "He'll get over it."

Steve looked her deep in the eyes. "Tony's gone."

Her eyes widened and he cleared his throat. "There was a spaceship..." He didn't seem quite able to grasp his own words. "People saw him take off after it... They think the kid was there too..."

"Kid..."

"The spider kid. From Leipzig."

"Well, shit."

"Yeah..." His gaze followed his twiddling thumbs. He tried to speak again but his voice caught in his throat. He coughed. "Where were you?"

She couldn't take seeing him worry. "Oh, you know. Around. Here, there. Went to Narnia a few ti - "

"Natasha." His steely gaze pierced her nonchalance.

"Honestly? I wasn't sure half the time. I left when I smelled trouble and just kept moving. Longest I stayed anywhere was around a month, I think."

"Were you alone?" He wasn't asking out of jealousy, he wanted to make sure she wasn't isolated wherever she was.

"Most of the time. I picked up the odd job here and there with some..." She didn't want to concern him. "Let's just say they're not the friendliest folks."

"You kill anybody?" His straightforward question knocked the air from her bruised lungs. She only nodded. He finally tore his gaze from her face and swallowed whatever emotion was threatening to overtake him.

"I'm sorry I didn't check in."

He waved his hand. "Don't worry about it."

"I did worry, though. I worried every second of every day that I would never hear your dumb voice or see your stupid face again." He cracked a smile. "Or see your cheesy smile." He turned to her.

"You were really worried?"

"Worrying was about the only thing that kept me sane." He nodded in acknowledgment. The sound of Natasha's heart monitor filled the room. "Tell me about the spaceship."

-

Steve filled her in about Thanos and his mission for universal genocide.

"Do we have a plan?"

"TBD."

Bruce walked in then and Natasha felt a stab in her gut as she remembered her encounter at the gas station. She decided not to tell either of them about it. Bruce checked her charts, adjusted the monitor and changed her bandages. Natasha kept a vice-like grip on Steve's arm as Bruce had to sew up her jagged bullet wound again. Bruce tried explaining to her how the Red Room serum still running through her veins had started healing the wound before the bullet had been removed. It had healed wrong and then began healing wrong again after the surgery. He told her he may have to open her back up again in the morning if it got any worse. The Red Room only cared about if their soldiers could heal, not how or if in the right way. After counting the seconds of eight agonising minutes, Natasha let out her breath in a hiss as Bruce wrapped her up and left her and Steve alone. She threw her head against her pillow and was tempted to ask Steve to up her morphine dose so she could sleep for a few more years.

"What happened to you?"

She didn't have to look at his face to imagine his worry. She looked up at the ceiling and didn't stop the tear that slipped from her eye. "Hell."

"You should've come with us..."

"No. I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you on my account."

"We would've all been responsible for each other. You would've been safe."

"You had fun then, the past two years?"

He dropped his head to his hands. "We survived."

"Anyone get hurt?"

"Not bad, until that last night."

"Edinburgh, I saw in the news. It's why I came here."

"What'd you see?"

"Hero-Turned-Fugitive Captain America Under Attack in Scotland. Spaceship."

He nodded slightly. A beat passed. "So Thanos-"

"Don't. I don't wanna think about it. Let's wait until I'm not dying."

"You're not dying." She had meant it as a joke, but his tone suddenly turned serious and tears filled his eyes again. It wasn't a statement of the present. It was a promise for the future.

"Steve-"

Suddenly his lips were on hers and she couldn't breathe again. Her entire body tensed and melted at the same time. His hand rested on her cheek and he pulled away, resting their foreheads together. "You're not dying if I can help it."

She only nodded and leaned forward to kiss him again. Her heart thundered in her ears and she tangled her fingers in his long hair. His beard tickled her face and she couldn't help but smile. She slowed them down and broke away, keeping him close. "We've got this."

"We really do." He gazed into her eyes and she laughed and pulled him down toward the bed. He placed one arm behind her head and wrapped the other gently around her waist. Their legs and breath tangled together and for the first time in years she felt she could breathe properly. "Stay."

"Until morning."

She looked at him.

"As nice as this is, we still have the end of the universe to deal with."

She groaned. "Such a killjoy. Just let me have this. I'm tired."

"I know." He kissed her head. "If this is the last good thing we see for awhile, I'll be okay with that. I can live here forever."

"Fuck Thanos."

"Let's not, do that."

She groaned and drifted off to sleep, finally reunited with someone she was certain would be the death of her. She was okay with that. That'd be how she'd want to go.

fin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaa we finally made it! I’ve been writing this fic for months and put it off because Endgame kinda killed my motivation but I’m back and the fic is done! Thank you so much to everyone who’s read it so far and left such nice comments, y’all inspired me to keep writing :) Thank you for coming on this journey with me, I’m sure I’ll see you all again soon :)  
> ~Milo Sebby


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